Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The rain moved out late yesterday afternoon and the sunset was remarkable. Today when Jilda and I drove to town on errands, we saw that the water at Sipsey Forks had dropped several feet. That's good news for the folks here, but all that water is creeping slowly southward. I'm not sure when it crests down there.

The sky today was gorgeous. I spent several hours writing my column for Sunday's paper but afterwards, I walked my 10,000 steps.

Over the next few days, Jilda and I will be working on our goals for the coming year as well as our vision boards. Both of us accomplished a great deal this year, but in looking back, there were a lot of things left undone.

Monday, December 28, 2015

Each year during the holidays, I find myself seeking solitude in the old barn on the back of our property. It’s away from jangling phones and the tether of Internet connectivity. The hayloft is quiet and through the years, I’ve found it’s a good vantage point for viewing the past year. I’ve always wondered if I could get a glimpse of next year from the roof, but I haven’t tried that yet. I’ve found that it’s helpful spending quality time thinking about where I’ve been and where I’d like to go.

This was a year of change for both Jilda and me. I started a job at the end of last year, but I really didn’t get cranking until January of this year. Many people asked why I came out of retirement to go back to work. All I could say was that I’d caught up on my honey-do list and wearing my pajamas until lunch wasn’t as fulfilling as I’d imagined it would be. Working part-time helping people over 50 get back to work turned out to be enjoyable.

This has been a year of change for Jilda, too. As I’ve written before, she’d been taking monthly infusion treatments to strengthen a faulty immune system, but she was one of the few people that experienced severe side effects from the chemicals being pumped into her arm each month. The side effects lasted anywhere from a few days to a few weeks each month. Her quality of life index plummeted.

After consulting with a specialist, she (we) decided to take a vacation from treatments earlier this year. What’s interesting is even though she stopped treatments in February, the side effects continued until well into summer. They weren’t always as brutal, but they were always there.

And then something weird happened. She walked out on the deck in July with our great nephew Jordan to go for a walk and the vibrations of their steps angered a swarm of red wasps who’d somehow built a nest behind the cover of an outdoor power outlet. In a matter of seconds, she was stung almost a dozen times. That was a bad thing. But after the swelling went down, she has not had one episode of aseptic meningitis since. It’s true what they say, “Fun ain’t cheap.” She quipped, “If I’d realized that a few wasp stings would have stopped the meningitis, I would have kicked a nest back in February.”

Also during the summer, a thunderstorm stomped through and blew a tree down through the middle of my truck. I loved that truck but had resigned myself to finding something newer. As it turns out, I found another identical truck with better tires and fewer miles on it. I love America.

As with most years, we’ve lost dear friends but we’ve also made new friends. It’s the ebb and flow of life.

The new year turns another page in my life. On Jan. 15, I turn 65. On Jan. 1, I’ll use my Medicare card when I see a doctor. It’s hard imagining how this happened so quickly.

During the winter when I hear people whining about cold weather and saying, “I wish summer would hurry up and get here.” I want to shake them. Take it from me — never wish a second of your life away because it gets away much too soon on its own.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

It didn't rain today which is a good thing. We did our last Christmas gathering this afternoon with the extended family and their extended family. The only kinship of some of these folks is that we all are humans living in the south :) Just kidding. Some of them came from up north.

But it was fun seeing everyone. Jilda and I made it a point to head out before the sun went down because the weatherman is forecasting more rain for our area. I know it sounds like I whine a lot about the weather, but it's on our minds a great deal.

Tornados and torrential rain swept through here on Christmas Day, but areas in Arkansas, Mississippi, and Tennessee also had it really bad. Then another front moved through Texas and officials are still counting fatalities. It's bee a brutal few days.

Yesterday, Jilda and I drove the Sipsey Forks to get a first-hand report. The water was already up into the parking lot, and the water is expected to continue rising until sometimeTuesday morning. But, the weatherman says we could get more rain tonight and tomorrow. If that happens all bets are off.

We live on high ground, but many of our friends live much closer to the water so our thoughts and prayers are with them.

Tonight we'll be doing an anti-rain dance.

Water is normally 40 feet below this bridge, but it will be touch and goif the water continues to rise.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

When I stepped out on the deck at 5:50 this morning, wispy clouds from the south were drifting off to the north as if they had no where to go.

The air was still way too warm for December, but I could hear birds and other critters bustling. They sounded almost like they do in early spring as they prepare for nesting and all the things they do when the weather warms.

After coffee, Jilda slipped on the new walking shoes that Santa brough her before we headed out for a short walk.

Outside our gate, something caught our eye over on the terrace row where the blueberries live. I shook my head when I realized that what we saw were buds as big as ticks on the ends of the stems. This warm weather and rain has them guessing what time of year it is. There's a good chance they will bloom out tomorrow when the temps push into the mid 70s.

By next weekend, the temps will be 30 degrees lower and the blueberries will be confused, asking themselves how they could have misunderstood. We live in a strange and wonderful place.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Today was family time. We had lunch with the family of Jilda's sister Pat. It was a full house and the food was off the charts. Jilda's family knows how to cook.

Later in the afternoon, we drove to my sister's house for yet more eating. I was still so full that I ate only a deviled egg and a little potato salad.

All afternoon thunder rumbled and winds out of the south made the trees sway. At one point the rain fell so hard that you could not see the road in front of my sister's house.

We cut our visit short so that we wouldn't be driving after dark and I'm glad I did because parts of the rural road to our house were like small rivers. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my hands cramped.

Our house is situated on one of the highest points in Walker County, and I was glad when we pulled into the driveway.

Just after we arrived, our weather alert sounded telling us we were under a flash flood warning. It didn't take an alert to tell me that. There were tornado warnings in the next county to the east of us and clouds are still rushing northward like a train from the gulf, but I'm hoping the severe weather dissipates soon.

Tonight we're watching the weather but wishing you and your family and Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Last night had a lot of eyes on the sky throughout the south and midwest as storms stomped through. At 9 p.m. when I stepped onto the deck to dump the old coffee grounds, a thick warm wind was blowing out of the gulf. In fact, the mercury rose after the sun went down.

We stayed up past 11 p.m. which is LATE for us, and even after we laid down, we were up checking radar throughout the night.

When the morning light slashed through the edge of the bedroom blinds, I was drooling on my pillow (just kidding.)

We swilled down a few cups of coffee before walking next door for our annual Christmas Eve breakfast and Jilda's brothers house this morning. He has three kids, and six grandkids. Fun was had by all.

Later, some of the grandkids came over here to bake Christmas cookies. Jilda makes a special cookie dough and the kids come over to punch cookies out of Christmas cutters. The next step for them is to
load the cookies down with colored Christmas sprinkles.

I took a phot of them all, but I'm sure Jilda will want to use it on her blog.

After getting the kids cranked up on sugar and artificial flavoring, we sent them careening home and we took a nap. I love America.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

It's a ghost town at work. Students had finals last week so they're al off for the holidays. When the teachers finished grading papers, they followed. The only folks left were staffers and security.

I ran out to grab a sandwich for lunch and ate it at my desk while responding to emails. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the community cat sitting on the patio looking in my window, seemingly at my sandwich.

Taking another bite, saved a chunck for my fuzzy friend. I stepped out on the patio and bent down to offer the food to the cat. He/she wasn't the least bit afraid and walked right up and took the offering. Sitting on the brick steps, I watched the critter enjoy its lunch.

When I pulled the door to go the few steps to my office, I found the doors locked. Hmmm.

I had to walk to the main building and through the serpentine halls back to my office. That's OK, because I needed the extra steps to get closer to my daily goal, but I decided to call it a day before I was totally locked out.

I'd planned to work tomorrow, but the custodian told me that he wasn't sure how I'd get in the building so I'm starting my Christmas holiday early.

Tomorrow could be a stormy day. The Weather Channel people have been pointing to multicolored globs on the weathermap and jabbering like coked-up spider monkey.

We'll be watching the sky tomorrow, but my friends west and north of us should be mindful too.

Monday, December 21, 2015

Family Christmas traditions are treasures beyond measure. Some of my fondest memories are of Christmas.The aroma of hot chocolate steeping on the stove and pecan pies baking in my mama’s oven on cold December mornings told me that it was finally Christmastime.Soon the tree would go up with popcorn ropes, tinsel, spun glass angel hair and bubble lights silently fizzing away the seconds until Santa arrived.Families are living portraits and time changes Christmas traditions. Kids get married and bring grandkids into the picture. And sometimes Christmas traditions are forever altered when we lose a loved one.Both Jilda and I learned this lesson when our parents died, but it holds true for every family.My traditions changed when I married Jilda. We celebrated Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas Day with hers.Christmas at my parents’ home was a madhouse when my brothers and sisters grew into adults and started families. We’d all meet just after dark at mom’s house and often we’d find members of our extended family who had come by as well as friends who had no other place to go on Christmas.Mother always had ham or turkey laid out on the table for munching. But the sideboard was filled with what she did best. Homemade fudge, divinity candy, pies, cakes and cookies to die for. If anyone left without a sugar buzz they had no one to blame but themselves.Migrating to the living room, we jockeyed for position around the mountain of gifts beneath the Christmas tree and once the gifting began, the living room turned into a sea of toys, discarded wrapping paper and bows.One Christmas a niece who was still in diapers pulled a bow from her gift and stuck it on Mama Watson’s arm. Everyone laughed at the gesture which was enough to encourage the other kids to join in the sticking fest. By the time all the gifts were opened, Mama Watson was a Christmas rainbow and a new tradition was born.We trudged on when my dad died in 1986, but when my mom began having health problems our Christmas traditions changed dramatically.Christmas at the home of Jilda’s parents was just as wild as it was at our house, but there was more focus on food. Except for the two years I was away in the Army, I spent every Christmas day with her family from 1968 until her mother passed away. She was the duct tape that held that tradition together and when she was gone, their traditions changed, too.This past weekend, our good friend Billy invited us to his house for a Christmas party.

Through the years, visiting Billy and Nila’s house always ended up on the holiday highlight reel. Their gathering put the joy in Christmas. No matter how stressful the holidays were, no one ever left Billy and Nila’s house without a smile on their face.This year’s celebration was a good one too, but it was bittersweet because Nila, who’d been the love of Billy’s life for over 50 years, died in February.His house was wall to wall with people Saturday evening. Old friends who’ve stuck together through the years came to enjoy each other’s company.Billy has a lot of support to help him through the holidays, and he will make it through, but I know from experience that Christmas will never be the same.Jilda and I wish you a Merry Christmas.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Today's been a low-key day. We knew Jilda had several hours of card painting to do today because the remaining cards must be in the mail in the morning. These go out to people who live nearby so delivery shouldn't be an issue.

My niece Samantha who lives next door is doing some drastic cleaning and rearranging in her room. I've hauled loads of stuff to Goodwill and to the dump. It's hard to believe she had so much in that small room.

Today, she had one antique dresser that she no longer needs and wanted it moved out so she called me. I told her we could store it in the barn. We've learned through the years not to toss good furniture. Families grow, people move or lose all their belongings in tornadoes and house fires. You wouldn't believe how many things we've redistributed through the years.

She called before breakfast so I drove the truck over and helped her load the dresser. She hopped in for the short ride back to the barn. I let the truck idle to warm the cab a little while opening the gate.

Dappled sunlight poked through the underbrush and spotlighted gate-post moss. I pulled the camera from my pocket and snapped a picture before opening the gate.

A few moments later we'd unloaded and by the time we passed back through the gate, the light had changed and the picture opportunity was lost.

It occurred to me that life is that way. Sometimes opportunity has a short window. If you dawdle too long or think about it too much, the opportunity is lost forever.

Sorry to get all existential and what not, but that happens to me from time to time.

Saturday, December 19, 2015

I am whupped and Jilda did most of the work today. We cooked for several members of her family that are celebrating birthdays in December. She baked a ham, prepared butterbeans, rutabagas, baked sweet potatoes, mac and cheese. I whipped up a pone of cornbread, Jilda's sister Pat brought collards, and our sister-in-law Debbie brought a grape salad. Our niece Samantha brought green been caserole. The food was out of this world.

I ran to the store before everyone arrived to grab a bag of ice and on the way back, I drove by a field of what looked like cattails growing in a filed of sage, but I've never seen cattails grow except close to water so I'm not sure what they were, but I like the way the sun played on their tassles so I stopped and snapped a photo.

We sat around for a long while enjoying each others company, but by the time everyone left and we cleaned up the kitchen I realized that my git up and go got up and went.

Friday, December 18, 2015

I said yesterday that the weather had been strange this fall. This morning when I walked out to go to meet the new college president where I work, Jilda pointed out that the Jasmine on our front arbor had bloomed.

Normally it blooms in April but the days have been so warm, I guess the plant thought this was a short sleep and bloomed out.

It was colder last night, but the next few days it will warm up again and it could be 80 degrees here on Christmas Day with storms. I'm excited.

The local newspaper reporter came by today to interview Jilda for a Christmas story. She'd been painting our Christmas Cards for 30 years. Some of our friends started framing the cards.

I'm not sure when the story will run, but I'm guessing it will be out in the next few days.

I was running late this morning and didn't get a shot of the jasmine and it was too dark to shoot one when I got home this evening, but I found one I shot last year during early spring.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

I walked later than normal tonight. A conference call and some wrap-up work kept me chipping at my desk.

When I looked at my desk clock, I realized I had to scoot to get to the post office. Jilda hand paints our Christmas cards and some of them were going to Europe so they really needed to be in the mail today in order to have a chance to get there before Christmas.

Grabbing my wallet, I stamped my envelopes and dropped them in the box moments before pickup.

After arriving home, I put on my sweats, walking shoes, grabbed my walking stick and headed out. It's been unseasonably warm here until the rain moved out this morning and then the temps dropped like a stone. When I stepped onto the back deck, I realized I had to get all the citrus trees back inside off the deck so the frost won't bite them tonight.

Caillou the wonder dog loped out of the gate the instant it opened and he was off after a rabbit in a flash leaving me to walk by myself.

It was peaceful this evening. After the sun sunk below the horizon, the sky began changing shades every few seconds and at one point was the color of butterscotch.

I realized that all the leaves are now gone from the trees. Some years they hang on until January, but with the recent winds, they decided to give up the fight.

I snapped a picture of the sky through the bare trees and realized that winter is less than a week away.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

I've spent most of the day writing. With Christmas next week, I had to not only write the column for this coming Sunday, but work on the one due the following Sunday. I know the newspaper staff wants time off with their families so I try to get my work submitted early during holidays.

This weeks column was the one before Christmas, but the following column will run after the fat elf does all his mischief.

I was struggling with an idea until a yellow finch flitted up to our window and peeped in to see if anyone was home.

He was a messenger I'm sure, but his peeps will follow in a few weeks. So that gave me the idea to do some kind of word play with grinch and finch.

Being inside for most of the day, I didn't get a photo to use tonight so I looked back at pictures taken last November and came across this one. It suited me just fine.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Our friend Billy invited us to his house this past weekend. We've known Billy all our lives. Jilda once worked with his wife Nila at a dress shop. Their daughter Kaye was in Jilda's class a school from first grade on.We've attended many Christmas parties at their house, but we knew going in that this year would be different. Billy lost Nila in February and this is the first Christmas without her.His house was wall to wall people Saturday evening. Old friends that have stuck together through the years came to enjoy each other's company. We had a good time, but it was, to use an old cliche, bittersweet. We all have our Christmas traditions. Families are living portraits, expanding and contracting through the years. When one person dies, the portrait changes forever. Billy has a lot of support to help him through the holidays, but Christmas will never be the same for him or his family. Note: The idea of changing traditions is the basis for my column next Sunday.

Monday, December 14, 2015

Standing in the checkout line with Jilda at Tractor Supply last week I learned something about myself I’d never realized. As we waited our turn, she held up last-minute gift ideas for kids. After holding up two or three stuffed animals and getting the same blank look from me, she said, “I miss my mom because she was FUN to shop with.”

The round dented the shopping armor I routinely wear during the Christmas season.

“I’m no fun to shop with?” I said in a hurt tone, with a little bit of a dejected curl on my bottom lip. “Please! You should just give me all the credit cards and go sit in the car.”

The man standing behind us got a good chuckle out of that. I glanced back at him with my best “We husbands must stick together look” and he just grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Wife -1 the Rickster - 0.

As we were leaving, Jilda said we need to run by Hobby Lobby. I said loud enough for the gentleman

behind me to hear, “I’ll go, but I won’t be any fun.” The guy snorted with laughter and the cashier joined in the merriment.

After we bought all the gifts we’d come to buy, we headed out to get some lunch and I thought back at all those years I had to work and Jilda went Christmas shopping with her mom.

They spent days going to every store in the area in search of the perfect gifts for every child, grandchild, and great-grandchild. They’d walk down aisles holding up tiny dresses, fire trucks, puzzles, and books. Each item was evaluated to make sure it was the perfect gift.

Every trip included lunch where they sat in booths glowing, absorbing the ambiance of Christmas.

When I got home on those evenings, every surface in our spare bedroom would be covered with gifts. Jilda would start at one end, unbox and hold up every gift and describe who it was for and why it wound up in the Christmas buggy.

She would not only tell me everywhere they went but who all they saw along the way and what they had for lunch. I could close my eyes and smell the warm cinnamon rolls and the aroma of the coffee they had for dessert.

This was a routine repeated every year. The first few times I only listened to the recap out of a sense of Christmas duty. But as the years passed, it became clear how much Jilda loved shopping with her mom.

They always had fun. And hearing her give the play by play became something I enjoyed too.

After our shopping trip last week, we ran by the cemetery to put Christmas holly on the graves of our parents. I stood nearby as Jilda knelt by her mom’s grave and tied a Christmas ribbon around the arrangement. I wish Ruby had been there with us Christmas shopping. And then as I remembered the gentleman laughing with us in the line at Tractor Supply, I’d like to think Ruby was laughing along with us.

Sunday, December 13, 2015

When the tree was in place we realized it had gotten a good bit bigger than we thought. Not only was it taller, but it was a lot fatter too.

Not to worry, we have mountains of decorations and after I got 1000 new white Christmas lights we began decorating the tree today.

After putting Christmas music on the stereo, we got down to business. We got most of the decorating done today, but our shipment of crystal ice cycles from the Vermont Country Store won't arrive until Wednesday so we'll finish up then.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

I staged the tree to bring inside for decoration. The tree stand is a #3 washtub. Wrestling the tree from

the wheelbarrow into the tub was a CHORE, but wrestling that baby up the front stairs and into the house was an even bigger chore.

The tree with the root ball weighs only marginally less that a Buick LaSabre with an anvil in the trunk. So I bent my knees to be kind to my back and stepped it up the stairs one at a time before putting the tub on an old beach towel. Once on the towel, I could easily drag the tree inside and into place.

When we looked through the decorations for the lights we remembered that the lights from last year had issues and were tossed when we took the tree down on New Years.

I could have jumped in the truck and fetched some lights from the store, but we both had a good bit of work to do getting the house tree-ready so we decided to get the lights when we went to town tonight and put the tree up in the morning.

I'll post pictures of the decorated tree. Right now, I'm going to drink my hot tea and hit the hay soon. I hope you all have had a remarkable Saturday.

Friday, December 11, 2015

We headed out to COSTCO early today to replenish our pantry and get some things for the holiday table. It was a fun trip.

We headed back just before lunch and stopped by Starbucks for a couple of holiday coffees. Our niece Samantha works nearby, so we decided to crash her workplace. We'd never been there before, but I knew where she worked.

When we walked through the door and asked for Samantha, the receptionist said, "You're Aunt Jilda and Uncle Rick." I wasn't sure if Samantha had every mentioned us there, but apparently she had.

She came over and introduced us to everyone there. We only stayed for a moment, chatting before heading out. We didn't wear out our welcome, as Jilda's mom used to say.

When we got home, we shifted into our decorating mode. After hauling up the storage bins from the shed, I left her to work on the inside while I went out and dug up a Christmas tree. It was a tree we had the year before last. It's grown about a foot since we replanted it, but it wasn't hard to dig up. It's a beautiful tree.

We'll get Samantha and Jordan to come over and decorate it tomorrow. I'm sure we'll listen to Christmas music, drink Christmas hot chocolate, and have a large time trimming the tree.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

I stayed on task at my desk in the office today. So wrapped up in a project that I lost track of time...until my stiff back reminded me.

Standing up, I stepped into the courtyard to get some sunshine and fresh air. I glanced over at one of the ornamental cherry trees standing next to the red-brick building. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating.

The tree had tiny blossoms that looked as if they carved from bone. I'm guessing their proximity to the sun-warmed bricks coaxed them out long before their time. I shot several picture but the wind was blowing through the courtyard and all the pictures are a little blurry because of the movement so I added the "art" effect to compensate for the picture being a little blurry.

It was a beautiful site to behold in December. I'm sure when the temps dip drastically next week, the blossoms will go scurrying back into their winter sleep.

Wednesday, December 09, 2015

The mind is a strange and wonderful thing. Last night I dreamed about one of our old friends we haven't seen since the first of the year.

I thought about the dream a number of times today. I had a conversation with her in my dream and I struggled to remember the words, but they would not come.

Then this evening when Jilda and I ran by the grocery store to pick up a few things, we headed over to the pharmacy area to pick up a bag of Epsom salts. Just as I came to the turn for the aisle, our buggy clinked on a buggy coming out of that aisle. It was our old friend that I'd dreamed about last night.

How strange is this? How could my mind have known that she would be there? It's a mystery.

It's happened to me before and I can't explain it. Have you ever had something like this happen? I'd like to hear your story.

Tuesday, December 08, 2015

I'm reading a book the Book of Tea. It was recommended reading in one of the meditation classes that I've taken recently.

I wasn't sure what the book was about or whether it would be something I would enjoy reading.

As it turns out, it's about tea. I know what you're thinking - What a waste of time. But it was written by Okakura Kakuzo. His ancestry is Japanese and this book is about more than just tea. He does talk about the history of tea, but he puts it in context and describes its impact on art, beauty, and simplicity. I'm only about three chapters in, but so far, it's a beautiful book.

The best part about reading is the surprise you experience when you least expect it.

When I walked late this afternoon, the sun was dawdling on the western horizon. Apparently it was waiting until I passed by the old house at the right moment to snap a picture. It's a reflection of the setting sun in the ancient glass of the windows.

Monday, December 07, 2015

Actually we’ve been clandestinely ordering presents for months. But on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we had a crew of kids playing in our backyard, so I took the opportunity to do a little reconnaissance work for the fat jolly guy. What I found was that kids think about Christmas much the same way we did 60 years ago.

Asking my great niece Joy if she’d been good for Santa this year, she glanced uneasily at her older sister Daisy. The three-year-old seemed to be mentally sorting through some of the events over the
past year when Daisy bailed her out by reporting, “She’s been good.” That was excellent news, I said to the child who was obviously relieved.

When we discussed Christmas gifting with Jordan, my great-nephew who lives next door, he gave careful consideration to what gifts he’d like Jilda and me to get him. I’m sure in his mind he was clicking off things he’d like along with the associated price tags. He’s very mindful of money and rarely asks us for anything expensive.

“What about a new winter outfit,” Jilda suggested. He jumped all over that with, “No, my mom takes care of my clothing needs. I think you guys and Santa should focus on toys and games.” Good answer, I thought.

He’s almost eight years old and extremely bright for his age, but I shook my head at the way he framed his answer to our question. I might have thought that same thing when I was his age, but my answer would have been a lot more direct. “I’d druther have toys.”

In the 1950s, The Sears Christmas Wishbook hit our mailbox in the fall. They got it into the homes early enough to torture kids for months. That was a genius move on their part because it gave families in rural areas of the country a chance to help Santa shop for their kids.

Those pages were “visual crack” for most kids. By the time Christmas rolled around, the pages were dog-eared and worn as thin as onion skin.

Our TV was black and white in those days, and I think toy manufacturers believed that TV was a passing fad not worthy of spending a lot of advertising dollars on.

I do remember advertisements for Slinkys and for Viewmaster slide views. These looked like binoculars, but you poked in a round cardboard disk with tiny color photographs in cutout slots in the disk.

You would point the Viewmaster toward the light and click a lever, which advanced the pictures. Santa brought me one of those.

These days, sales pitches inundate children’s programming on TV and fill their parent’s email inboxes with the latest and greatest in technology toys, games, and other high-dollar offerings.

Jilda and I don’t have kids, but we find ways to spend Christmas dollars on our nieces and nephews. We try to get them things they might enjoy but probably aren’t on their “A” list.

We look for unique toys, books and games that will last after the Christmas lights are packed away for another year.

I know the Christmas Wishbook is pretty much a thing of the past, but if it were the only way to reach children today, I’d bet they would enjoy it as much as we did when we were kids.

Sunday, December 06, 2015

We gathered at the home of Jilda's sister along with her other siblings. Her brother Ricky turns 62 in January and he's the baby of the family.

Back when Jilda's parents were living, family functions usually meant almost 30 folks clammoring for position I the food line. After her parents died, it seems the family scattered in the wind and it's hard just getting all the siblings together.

These gatherings are alway fun and I always find myself asking why we don't get together more often.

When people started leaving, we offered to stay and help cleanup, but that didn't fly so we headed out too.

My folks are buried in a small country cemetery not far from her sister's house so we decided to run by there and decorate their graves with the Christmas flowers we bought yesterday.

The sunbathed cemetery was peaceful and I sat on a nearby tombstone and watched Jilda do her magic with silk flowers and strips of ribbon.

Afterwards we ran over to where her folks are buried and repeaded the process.

It was a lazy evening for me. I sat working on the final from my songwriting class while Jilda wrote her monthly column for The Leaf Magazine.

Saturday, December 05, 2015

We finished up our Christmas shopping today and bought cemetery flowers for our parents. Then after lunch we took our great nephew Jordan down behind the barn to find his annual Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

The only requirement for the tree is that it has to be his choice. Everybody else's job is to try and persuade him to get one that if fuller with more branches. It's a game we play every year.

But he has a gift for choosing the saddest tree, the one that Charlie Brown would choose.

It's a good way for everyone to tramp around in the woods and burn off lunch. It's a fun tradition that we started with his mom twenty years ago.

Friday, December 04, 2015

Today was a day of rest. This past week has been intense and Jilda and I both had things on our list we'd planned to do today, but we blew those things off and enjoyed a relaxing day.

We had lunch at our local Mexican Restaurant, came home and took a long nap.

Afterwards we took the dogs for a walk. The air was definitely crisp so I wore my longsleeve workout shirt, but Jilda has thinner skin and gets chilled easily so she bundled up.

When the rain moved out yesterday, it took all clouds and humidity with it. Today was all about blue skies and sunshine. Our walk was delightful.

Later in the afternoon, I walked down close the door to the chicken pen and then I stepped to the back gate. Leaning my forearms on the wire, I realized how much the mercury had dipped. I watched for a while as a bunny rabbit scampered cautiously under the apple tree. He was having fun, but keeping an eye on me.

Up in the pines, I could see the last remnants of sunlight playing in the treetops and I snapped a picture.

This evening I feel I've finally caught up on my rest, and I'm ready to have a great weekend.

Thursday, December 03, 2015

I'm reading Call of the Wild by Jack London. I read the book when I was very young but couldn't remember much about it. I did recall that I loved the book, so when I saw it discounted I picked up a copy.

Now I'm reading the book through the eyes of an aspiring writer. I find it interesting how writers I've admired through the years, told their stories with language, style, and words that brought it to life.

If I'd realized when I was younger that I wanted to be a writer, I would have paid better attention as I read years ago. But the vision looking back is always much clearer than looking forward.

I worked until dark today and didn't have an opportunity to snap a photo of the day so used an old photo of my trusted companion Caillou. I have a feeling Caillou and Buck from Call of the Wild would have been great friends.

Wednesday, December 02, 2015

Ten years ago tonight I sat down at my computer and wrote my first blog entry. I started doing a website for my high school alumni in 2001 and I wrote stories and profiles several times a week for that site.

I'd been reading about blogging and thought I'd give it a try. The destination wasn't clear, but it

seemed to be an outlet.

I posted one update, and the next night I did another one...and I didn't stop.

At first the only readers were a few people who when to my old high school, but then somehow out there in the ether, the words found their footing and people from places other than Dora, Alabama began reading my updates.

Ms.. Soup from Australia was one of the first, and then Grandpappy from Arizona. And it grew from there.

There were fewer than 10 nights I did not post and update. Several years ago when tornados damaged the infrastructure so badly that we didn't have power for over a week. I missed a few nights then, but as soon as the roads cleared, I drove to a local McDonalds and did my updates from there.

As of tonight, I've posted 3836 posts, thousands of photographs, and I now have 555 followers who've left almost 18,000 comments.

The blog helped me land a weekly column in a local paper and now five other papers are running the column too.

To be honest, there were times I asked myself why I bothered to write every night. The only thing I can say is that I've felt compelled to continue and the routine has helped me find my voice...and to become a better writer. But even now, the more I write, the more I realize how little I know about the craft.

The best part is the friendships I've made through the years. I feel like many of you are old friends even though we've never actually met and to me that's the biggest benefit of blogging.

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

If my mother had lived, she'd be 91 today. I have very few good pictures of her standing around, because her hands were always busy with work - cleaning, baking, or bouncing children on her knees.She never felt she photographed good, but the reason was that in almost every picture taken of her, she'd be talking or making a face.She had a twisted sense of humor that few people "got". I think that's where I learned the art of humor.I posted this picture on Facebook today and I got several comments from people who knew her through the years. What follows are a few of the comments left today.

Rick I spent as much time at your house as mine your mother was a first rate mother to all of us I have memories of her same as my mom and dad your mom proved how much she cared especially when it was time to whip us she got my Respect for that everyone was treated the same we all have that to rember some of my favorite memories where at your house we are Brothers Forever Love you Brother

Oh, I miss Nana!!! She always kept me in line. She would be so proud of Laura Lee Ellis.

I miss her to I have no one to give me advise anymore

She was a wonderful lady ,I miss her and know you have an aching heart , my little brother spent time at your house too , thank goodness for our special memories.

Happy Birthday Elwanda, always looking for my hug.

She produced some awesome children!

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of her.

Monday, November 30, 2015

I’ve been under the weather the last few weeks with a nasty cough that sounds like a hound treeing a squirrel.I’ve turned into a whiny baby. It takes great restraint from Jilda to keep from cutting my head off with a butcher knife to put me out of my misery.It’s been a while since I’ve felt this bad.I know the exact moment it started. We were driving down Interstate 65 to play at an art festival in Clanton. Midway between Birmingham and the peach water tower, we both saw a small fire just off the Interstate.Instead of the smoke rising as you’d expect, this smoke spread out just above the ground and hung there like a veil.A moment after we drove through the smoke, we coughed in stereo. Jilda said, “I hope they weren’t burning toxic waste back there.”We both laughed, but my cough persisted…and has for three weeks.The last time a cough this bad settled in my chest was when I was about 13 years old. I remember that time clearly because it was my first trip deer hunting with my dad. I anticipated that I’d come back with deer meat and a story to tell, but the only thing I brought home was pneumonia.It was the weekend after Thanksgiving and the temps had dropped like a stone. We bunked with about 15 other hunters in a run-down hunting cabin. Pulling my pallet up close to the fireplace, I fell asleep to the sound of snapping logs.The next day, the sun felt warm on my hunting jacket when the wind wasn’t blowing, but my shotgun was so cold I feared my fingers would stick to the polished blue steel barrel.And then after lunch, the clouds rolled in. Soon, misting rain began to fall. By late evening, my clothes were damp and my boots felt like anvils on my feet.That second night, getting a place close to the fire was harder because everyone’s feet got wet that day so boots took the choice drying spots by the fire.The next day was the most miserable day of my life. The jeep dropped hunters every three or four hundred yards in the area. My stand was in a grove of oak and hickory with no one in sight.I sat at the base of that tree for hours. The drizzling rain returned and brought flecks of sleet and snow with it.When I couldn’t take the wind and cold anymore, I found a giant oak that had been damaged by fire in years past. The trunk was hollowed out and the opening was just the right size. I burrowed into the tree like a mole and stayed there until I heard the jeep horn at dusk.A rattling cough started that night and by the time we got home the following afternoon, I was sick. The doctor took one look at me on Monday and told my mom I had pneumonia. It took forever to get over that hunting trip.This past week when I went to the doctor for my current cough, he shot me full of antibiotics and medicine for the cough. I’m feeling much better, but I couldn’t run a race.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

It's rained all day so we did a lot of indoor work. I've read and spent most of the day working on a Berkeley College of Music Songwriter class. I'm out of juice. today and I am frazzled.
So I'm going to take both a Pass Goal and Collect $200 card tonight.
I hope you all have a great week.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

Our autumn has been a little wonky. The leaves got a head start and it looked as if it would be a stunning year, but then It stayed very hot and dry. The leaves struggled not to fall and turn into a brown crunchy carpet.

When the rain came, it brought wind with it and many of the leaves were blown off before they had a chance to show out.

We drove to the store to pick up some groceries this morning, and the sky was stunning. We noticed several crimson maples and Bradford pear trees.

Then on our walk after lunch today, I came up several small oak trees that had lingered and decided to put on their own show. I was glad they held on.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Today was a laid back day for Jilda and me. We took a long walk and then ran a few errands. Afterwards, we headed up some leftover turkey, dressing, and some other goodies followed by a long peaceful nap.

About 3 p.m., we heard a commotion outside and three of our great nieces and a nephew were running up the hill into the front yard.

Jilda and I sat on the back step of the deck along with their PawPaw and watched those kids run wide open for almost two hours. Their energy wore me out.

They didn't need toys, computers, lawn games, or anything else but open space and fresh air.

The setting sun highlighted wispy cirrus clouds sweeping up from the Gulf of Mexico and painted them the colour or orange sherbet.

I stopped them for a moment and asked them what they saw in the clouds. "An angel", one shouted. "There's the wings, and there's her halo." "A dolphin," another one offered. And so on.

With kids, it doesn't take a lot. I'm thrilled they enjoy coming to our house. Holidays would be a lonely time for us if it weren't for the children of our nieces and nephews.

We didn't have children (long story here, but maybe another time), but we've had the good fortune to live next door to Jilda's brother who had three kids and now they have children. We're surrogate grandparents. Whenever someone needs a kid picked up at school, or needs a place for a kid to stay when everyone else in the family is tied up, they have us on speed-dial because we are here to serve.

It's a delightful arrangement because we get to have all the fun with the kids and then send them home when they're worn out and cranky.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

I've only spent two Thanksgivings away from home in my life. That was November 1971 when I was in radio school at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, and the following year when I was stationed in Panama.

I was short on money to fly home that year, but I did consider hitch-hiking to Alabama. It was during those years when drivers actually picked up hitch-hikers. Soldiers in uniform and an added advantage because people wanted to help servicemen in those days. But I only had four days off and I feared I'd get stuck on the road so I opted to spend Thanksgiving with one of my married classmates who lived off-base.

Thanksgiving is such a special holiday for me. It's always been about family, food, and celebrating all the abundance in my life.

The first Thanksgiving in New Jersey was hard because I wasn't home with my family, but having Thanksgiving with my friends softened the bruise, but the following year in Panama was brutal. It felt as if I were a million miles away.

I could close my eyes and smell the turkey and ham baking in the oven, and hear the din of laughter coming from the living room where my family and friends gathered waiting for the blessing to be said.

Today as my niece said the blessing over the turkey and dressing at our house, I thought about that day in Panama in 1971. It was a short mental journey on to the soldiers serving on active duty around the world today. I wish I could have had them all here at our house today so they would not spend this Thanksgiving feeling like they were a million miles away from home.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Driving home this evening, the full moon looked as big as a dinner plate through the trees. The moon ends 2015 by giving us two treats. A full moon on Thanksgiving morning, and another on Christmas Day.

I don't recall the last time that happened. I tried to get a picture this evening, but my attempts were tragic...well, actually tragic might be a little harsh, but sad seems to fit nicely.

So tonight I surfed through older photographs. I came upon a picture I took five years ago in December of 2011.

I could come up with some tired phrase about how fast time slips away, but the thing is, it's getting away at an alarming pace.

It seems as if the older we get, the grains in our hourglass get smaller and woosh through to the bottom of the glass much quicker than when we were younger.

The only way to guard against the passing of time is to be here...now. Pay attention. Blog. Otherwise, we'll wake up one day and wonder where it all went.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Thanksgiving week is a wonky work week. Normally, I have all day Wednesday to sip green tea and write. But this week I'm workingWednesday. So much for leisurely writing.
Today I completed work a little early and decided to dive in head first and knock the column out. I made a steaming cup of peppermint tea and sat down to type. Nothing.

I tried all the old standby muse nudgers but none of them worked. I decided to do a new technique that I learned about called freewriting. That means you start typing the first thing that pops into your head and eventually an idea dislodges from a long nap from somewhere inside your mind and your off. I typed until my fingers bled...bruised...well actually they grew tired of typing and I decided to
take a walk.

The walk was refreshing. The sun was lounging on the western horizon, and a few beams filtered through the canopy to highlight a few lingering autumn leaves.

I paused and snapped. A little further along, I snapped another one.

I was walking the new path and as I got near the barn I saw something in the underbrush.

Bending down, I scooted off the path to investigate.

What I found was an old RC Cola bottle with the neck broken off.

Mother Nature figured that since the bottle was no longer being used, she'd use it as a vase.

There was a fern growing from the mouth of the jagged glass, and when I held it up to the light, I could see the fern flourished inside the bottle too.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Fear is an interesting emotion. Most of the things I’ve feared in my life never happened. They were figments of my imagination.

Fear sometimes caused me to say and do things I regretted after the threat of danger had passed.

When I was a kid, the closest dentist was in the town of Cordova. The town was about eight miles away from our house and was situated near the banks of the Warrior River.

I HATED going to Cordova. It wasn’t just going to the dentist; it was because I was afraid of riding over the old bridge into town.

The steel structure had a wooden roadbed. Over the years, the bridge deteriorated and the ends of some of the boards broke off and fell into the river. The bolts fastening the wood to the structure had worked loose and rattled when cars or trucks drove over it.

My mother always drove slowly across that bridge. We had a 1957 Buick which weighed just slightly less than one of the Great Pyramids, and she always feared it was too heavy for the ancient structure.

Even driving slowly, the clattering sound of the wood on steel was almost deafening.

A few times, I conjured up enough courage to look out the windows as we crossed that bridge. In places, you could see through the missing ends of boards all the way to the water 40 feet below.

To say it made me uneasy would have been an understatement. In fact, my rear end almost chewed holes in the upholstery during those infrequent dentist trips. It was enough to make me brush my teeth with more diligence.

It wasn’t the bridge itself I feared, but images I conjured up of us plunging into the depths of the river and being trapped in the back seat as the ink-black water rushed in through the cracks and slowly turned the passenger compartment into an aquarium. By the time we arrived at the dentist’s office, I was usually exhausted. Fear does that to you.

Facebook is a blessing and a curse. I love looking at Facebook on special holidays when people are sharing pictures of the family and kids.

But during election time the posts on Facebook often get mean spirited. I try to keep my views on politics, religion and hot-button topics to myself because I prefer not to add to the noise.

Some of the things I saw on Facebook after the Paris attack and the subsequent backlash about America accepting Syrian refugees looked almost like headlines from the National Enquirer.

People are filled with fear and the thing that concerns me is we’re letting a handful of terrorists rule our thinking and our lives.

The only real thing these savages can do is to instill fear. This is their weapon of mass disruption. If they can make us fearful, have they not already won the battle?

Sunday, November 22, 2015

We had to bundle up to day on our morning walk because it was the coldest morning of the year. Breath steamed out of my mouth when we walked up the hill. Normally we do a long walk in the morning and then a short one in the afternoon if we need the steps to meet our daily goals, but today was packed.

We joined Jilda's sister and her family for lunch but we had to leave early because one of our friends died unexpectedly and the funeral was today.

She was a scream...one of those people who saw humor in unlikely places. I often laughed 'till I cried whenever we dined with them.

Today as we stood in line waiting for our few moments with the family, I thought about all those good times we all spent together...the fun we had, and when it came time for us to hug her husband, I choaked up. He said as we stood there, I know she's mad she missed this party.

This evening when we got home, we still had things we needed to do. But as the sun sank down, I realized I was short on steps and decided to take a walk.

Jilda threw on her shoes, put a harness on the pooch, and we were off. On the last lap, I noticed light on some twisted trees I'd never noticed before. I knew I needed a photo for tonight, so I snapped a photo.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Summer's gone. We've flirted with frost once, but tonight the temps will drop into the 20s. We spent much of the afternoon prepping plants and finding space for them inside the house.

The big ones came in yesterday, but we have a forest of smaller ones that we shove into every nook and cranny that gets light through the windows.

The hardest one to find a place for was the oldest plant of the bunch. It's philodendron that once belonged to Jilda's grandmother. Though the years, the plant passed through the generations to Jilda. Lyndon Johnson was in the White House the first time she remembers seeing that plant. We finally got everything placed this evening.

Jilda then started going through the books. Any that she didn't want to keep, she put them in a pile for me to consider before they go to the thrift store.

The Zinnias bloomed until just over a week ago. When I knew their days were numbered, I snapped an art photo of the last one standing before mowing them into mulch.

Jilda has peas on the stove and baked sweet potatoes with beets roasting in the oven. Soon I'll whip up a pone of my world famous cornbread and we'll have our supper.

Friday, November 20, 2015

I'd been dreading a task on my todo list for weeks. It's one of of those Important but not Urgent tasks that is OK to postpone for a while, but if you wait too long, you regret it.

My task was moving the citrus trees from outside the great-room windows inside. Several days ago there was a threat of frost, but I didn't get the trees moved inside. The cold snap didn't hurt them, but there is a hard freeze warning predicted here tomorrow night. Temps are expected to drop into the 20s which would do irreparable damage to the trees.

We've had them as long as I can remember, so I "man'd" up today and moved them inside. I didn't split my guts open as I feared, but by the time I finished I felt as if I'd gone 18 rounds with the young Cassius Clay.

The trees take up a great deal of space so Jilda had to do a lot of prep work to make room for them. She'd planned to cook supper, but she ran out of steam too. She suggested I go to Green Top BBQ and get us a BBQ Salad. That sounded like a winner so in a flash I was off.

When I got back home, the setting sun highlighted the leaves on our neighbor's dogwood which stands at the corner of her yard a few feet from our driveway. There was no traffic so I pulled to a stop, stepped out and shot a picture. Dogwoods are beautiful year around, but in the fall they are exquisite.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Slate-colored clouds moved in yesterday to give the sun a day off. About midday, the wind began to blow raking turning leaves off the trees.

The weatherman said things could get rough for us by daybreak. When I looked at weathermaps, it looked as though Texas and Oklahoma were getting hammered. A thin line of red on the radar screamed, "IF YOU LIVE IN A MOBILE HOME, GET OUT AND GET TO A SAFE PLACE!!!!!"

I slept with my cell phone by the bed. I have it configured to receive sever weather alerts so we'll have time to get to our safe place when it gets bad.

But when I got up this morning, the line was still off to the west and it looked like it was weakening. When it got here bolts of lightning stung the earth like angry red wasps. One thunderclap made the windows rattle, but in the end all we got was torrential rain. I ran out and fitted the chickens with life vests.

After lunch the rain moved off to the east and this evening when I headed to the store to pick up some milk and OJ, I could see the skies off to the west getting lighter.

By the time I headed home, there was a strip of cloudless sky sitting on the horizon. I pulled to the side of the road and snapped a photo.

I'm thankful the weather was violent here. I hope my blog friends to the north in Kentucky, and Ohio got off as lucky as we did.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

The local Chamber of Commerce was doing a meet and greet in the town of Cordova today. I maintain the Chamber's website and do the newsletter so I swung by for a few moments to sip some tea, shake hands, and shoot photos, before heading to a session I had scheduled in Jasper.

There was a young policewoman there and during our conversation, I remembered something I hadn't thought of in years.

When I was a kid, the closest dentist was in the town of Cordova which was about eight miles from our house and across the Warrior River. I HATED going to Cordova. It wasn't just going to the dentist, it was driving over the old bridge.

It was a steel structure with a wooden roadbed. Over the years, the bridge deteriorated and the ends of some of the boards broke off and fell into the river. The bolts fastening the wood to the structure had worked loose which made driving treacherous.

My mother always drove across that bridge slowly because it freaked her out too, and she didn't want to get off on the edge and fall through into the river. While I loved to swim, falling into the cold dark water inside a Buick that weighed just slightly less than one of the Great Pyramids, did not appeal to me.

The boards clattered as cars drove across the ancient bridge. Even driving slowly, the sound was almost deafening. A few times I conjured up enough courage to look out the windows as we crossed that bridge. In places, you could see through the missing ends of boards all the way to the water 40 feet below.

To say it made me uneasy would have been an understatement. In fact, my rear end almost chewed holes in the upholstery during those infrequent dentist trips. It was enough to make me brush my teeth with more diligence.

Thankfully there is a new bridge now. I say that tongue and cheek because the new bridge was built over 30 years ago, but I can tell you, I don't miss the old one.

Monday, November 16, 2015

As I sit here writing, the aroma of simmering vegetable soup and cornbread baking in the oven makes it hard to focus. I keep thinking about slipping into the kitchen, taking a long handled spoon and sampling the soup. But the soup isn’t for us; it’s lunch for our neighbors down the road who are going through a difficult time right now.Nurses visit frequently, and her outlook does not sound good. He seems to be struggling with making sure she has what she needs and probably has little time for thinking of life without her. I can’t imagine what they’re going through.As Jilda and I walked yesterday, he pulled his SUV to the curb and rolled down his window to give us a brief update. We both listened. The sadness in his voice broke my heart. Jilda asked him if he thought he and his wife might be able to eat a bite of vegetable soup. He said he thought she might like that. Jilda promised some for lunch.Before he rolled his window up and headed to the store, I told him if there was anything I could do to help, let me know. In reality, there’s little anyone here on earth can do.I know the coming weeks and months will be brutal. Our friend Yvonne went through a similar situation with her husband, Charlie, earlier this year. They’d been married over 58 years.She told me this week that at times when she walks through their house, she feels Charlie’s presence. She realizes that some people write this off as wishful thinking on her part, but when two loving people are together for that long, it would be strange for him NOT to be with her on some level.I thought about both Yvonne and our neighbor as Jilda and I finished our walk yesterday.Trying to imagine how I would feel if faced with a similar situation was not an easy thing to consider.There were times over the last few years that I feared the worst. Jilda was struggling with severe side effects from her monthly infusion treatments. The treatments were for a defective immune system.This procedure causes side effects in only a small number of patients, but she hit the side effect lottery and struggled with aseptic meningitis. Some months it only put her on the couch for a few days, but other months she rarely left it. I can tell you it was scary to think I might lose someone who’s been with me for most of my life.Jilda and I started dating in high school. That was in 1968, and aside from the two years I was in the Army, we’ve been together ever since.Today, after the soup simmered and the cornbread browned, she boxed up enough for our neighbors to eat for a day or two.He told me to thank Jilda for doing that for them. It wasn’t much, but under the circumstances it’s the least we could do for neighbors who are hurting.

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About Me

I am an award-winning writer who often uses humor to paint pictures of life situations. "My goal is to leave the reader smiling." I write books as well as newspaper and magazine columns.I am also singer/songwriter who writes and performs folk/Americana music at festivals and coffee houses across the south.

My three non-fiction books are Life Changes, Life Happens which was released in September of 2012, and Remembering Big which I released in 2008.The release date for book four, Life Goes On, is scheduled for the summer of 2016.